


Keep Me (in your bed)

by Tirlaeyn



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Body Worship, Bottom Hannibal, Fluff and Smut, Light Bondage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 11:01:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11416554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tirlaeyn/pseuds/Tirlaeyn
Summary: Just some nice bottom!Hannibal with praise kink and body worship, and Will being a giant sap.





	Keep Me (in your bed)

**Author's Note:**

> Music for this: "London Rain" by Heather Nova and a little bit of "Take Me to Church" by Hozier

“I assure you, Will, I am quite well. I believe I have been very clear on this point.” 

Hannibal stands at the kitchen island chopping vegetables as if they've personally wronged him. His usual calm grace while cooking replaced with stiff and brutal movement. 

Will sighs. There are times when Hannibal truly wants to be left alone, when Will takes Cephy on an extra walk or, on the worst days, spends the time fishing or tinkering in the shed until Hannibal eventually calls him for dinner, at which point he is usually back to himself again. But there are times, too, when Will can tell Hannibal wants what he cannot ask for, and Will has a feeling today is one of those. So he doesn't go far, just to the lounge where he can cuddle up with Cephy and a good book and wait. 

Dinner is a stiff and silent affair. Will watches Hannibal out of the corner of his eye. He eats his food, sniffs the wine and drinks it, keeps his hands steady, but it's all robotic. And Will thinks, ‘Just this time you could ask. You could reach out for me and I'd be here.’ But he never does.

After dinner, Will follows Hannibal into the kitchen. They stand at the sink and wash and dry the dishes. It's a soothing repetitive task, but it has little effect on Hannibal's state of mind. He remains silent as the dishes are put away, the sink cleaned out, and the counters wiped down. Finally, Will reaches for his wrist. 

“Hannibal. Please let me…” Will trails off and lets his eyes finish the rest.

Hannibal stares at him. Still unable to give voice to his need, but it shows in his eyes, an aching, vulnerable thing. Will cups the side of his face and runs a thumb across his cheekbone. Hannibal lets out a tiny sigh and leans into the touch, and it's all the confirmation Will needs.

“Come.”

Will leads Hannibal to the spare bedroom, still holding him loosely by the wrist. Will takes naps in this room occasionally and maintains his scent on the linens for times like these when he knows Hannibal needs it. He watches Hannibal take a deep breath and relax a fraction the moment they step in the room. 

“Now I want you to remove your clothes, fold them neatly, and lie down on the bed. Just pull the blankets off. Good.”

Will strips down as well, but leaves his boxers on. He takes a moment to savor the sight before him, Hannibal laid out on the bed like a feast or an offering. 

No, Will thinks, more like a god starved for worship.

“You're so beautiful, Hannibal. I could watch you forever. Do you remember your safe word? Say it for me.”

“Nakama,” Hannibal says, his voice rough.

“Thank you. Now, put your left hand behind your head and give me your right. That's it. Very good.” 

He takes Hannibal's hand, and begins slowly working his thumbs into his wrist and palm and up each of his fingers. 

“Skillful and deadly, your hands. Strong and delicate. I love to watch them with a pencil or a knife or stretching to reach the harpsichord keys.” 

One at a time, Will sucks each finger into the hot wetness of his mouth, releasing them with a pop. Hannibal watches with rapt attention. Will runs his tongue along the scar on his wrist, and Hannibal’s breath hitches.

“Strength and elegance in every movement. When you roll your sleeves up and these muscles tense, each moment my mouth isn't on them is gorgeous torture.” 

Will kisses the inside of Hannibal's elbow, and licks and nips his way up to his shoulder. He nuzzles into his neck, breathing deep. Then licks one long stripe up to his ear and catches his earlobe between his teeth. 

“Relax. You're doing so well for me,” Will whispers into Hannibal's ear. “Now give me your other arm.”

Will treats Hannibal's left arm the same, alternating praises and kisses. By the time Will reaches his ear, Hannibal’s breath is heavy and uneven, his lips parted, and his eyes wet. Will licks away an errant tear. 

“Relax, my darling,” Will whispers in his ear. “Let yourself feel. I'm going to tie your arms now that I'm done with them. So you won't be tempted to touch, and you don't have to resist.”

Soft silken ropes rest in a drawer just for this purpose. Will ties each wrist with strong, careful knots, just tight enough to hold. 

“There now that's better.” Will settles next to Hannibal on the bed. “More tears Hannibal? You can remain stoic in the face of torture and mockery, but you have no idea what to do with praise and tenderness.”  
“Is this not torture?” Hannibal's voice is rough and full of emotion.

“No, this is love.” Will says.

He traces Hannibal's face slowly. There are more contradictions here too: sharpness of the bone structure, softness of the skin, faintest rasp of stubble along the jawline. And a mouth kingdoms would die for. 

Will runs his thumb along the seam of Hannibal's lips and presses on the bottom one. Hannibal's tongue darts out to lick it.

“Your mouth, Hannibal. I dream about your mouth. Your teeth and tongue are weapons, both capable of murder of one kind or another. But I crave your lips. So soft and kissable. So gorgeous wrapped around my cock.”

A sharp intake of breath and something that might be a whine cut short escapes Hannibal's lips.

“I know you'd like that right now wouldn't you? My cock in your mouth. Something to do as a distraction. But we aren't doing that right now, Hannibal. This is about you.”

Will kisses him long and slow, his fingers wandering down Hannibal's chest and belly. He gathers a fistfull of chest hair and tugs gently, and Hannibal gasps. Bending down, he takes a nipple into his mouth and suckles softly while circling the other with a finger. Hannibal arches into the touch, silently begging for more. But Will persists as Hannibal's heart speeds up and his breaths get shakier. 

“Will. Please!” Hannibal shouts in desperation. 

Will just hums approval before biting one nipple and pinching the other. 

“Very good,” Will says.

Will smiles to see the light in Hannibal's eyes returning. He gets up quickly and retrieves a bottle of lube from the drawer. Tucking it into the waistband of his boxers, he settles between Hannibal’s legs. Hannibal's cock is hard and leaking, but he ignores it, instead leaning forward to place open mouth kisses on Hannibal's belly.

“I love this, this softness,” Will says between kisses.

Hannibal snorts, and Will grins.

“Shh. You're all tooth and claw and sharp angled bones, and then there's this. Almost a secret. Warm, soft, and vulnerable, like a tiger's belly.”

One more kiss, and Will can't resist setting his teeth in and letting his tongue taste. He closes his eyes for a moment. Then he backs up, takes one of Hannibal's feet in his hands, and starts to massage it. 

“You have beautiful legs, like a dancer.” Will's hands shift to Hannibal's calf. “Even when you're hunting, well, especially when you're hunting, you move with such grace and confidence. It's sexy as hell.”

Will stops when he reaches Hannibal's knee and switches legs. Hannibal groans. 

“Have mercy,” Hannibal pleads.

Will stops and takes in the sight of him again. Hannibal is a mess. Hair mussed, chest heaving and covered in a sheen of sweat, cock red and leaking. But what is important are his eyes. Pupils blown wide, but clear and present and hungry. Will grins indulgently.

“But this is mercy, my love. This is sweetness.” 

Will kisses Hannibal's thigh.

“And care.” 

Another kiss, just a bit higher. 

“And tenderness.” 

Another kiss still higher. 

“And love.” 

This one lands right in the junction between groin and thigh.

“And worship.”

Will lifts Hannibal's hips and licks a stripe from his hole to just behind his balls. 

And Hannibal cries out.

“My dear, sweet Will. Please!”

“So eager,” Will says.

He pulls the bottle of lube from his waistband, now perfectly warmed to body temperature, and slicks up one finger. Circling Hannibal's hole, he massages the muscle, then slowly pushes in. At the same time, he bends down to take the head of Hannibal's cock in his mouth and sucks. 

A hand on Hannibal's hip is all that keeps Will from choking on cock. He pulls off to add more lube and push another finger in. Slowly, he fucks Hannibal, stretching the muscle, and hitting his prostate every third or fourth stroke. He licks the length of Hannibal's cock, swirling around the head, then down to lap at his balls. 

Above him, Hannibal is nearly incoherent, chanting a constant stream of groans and sighs and needy broken whines, but mostly ‘Will, Will, Will.’

Finally, Will pulls his fingers out. He shifts and pulls his boxers off. 

“Are you ready for me, Darling?”

“Please, Will!”

Will slicks his cock and gets into position. Then he pushes in, slowly, inch by inch, savoring Hannibal's face, the look in his eyes, the scent of him, and the feeling of being exactly where he belongs.

“I love you, Hannibal. You are beautiful and precious. And I will never leave you. You are mine and I am yours.”

Tears stream down his face as he leans down to kiss Hannibal who responds as if his kiss is life to a dying man. He begins to move with a pounding rhythm, desperate suddenly to get fully lost in the pleasure. Reaching between them, he works Hannibal's cock in time with his thrusts. He finds himself repeating over and over. 

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Hannibal comes first, spilling over Will's hand with a final cry of his name. Will follows soon after, the force of it causing him to nearly collapse. He lies still for a moment, breathing Hannibal in. When he finally shifts, Hannibal stiffens.

“Don't go.”

“I'm only going to untie your arms and get you a washcloth and a glass of water. I won't go far.” 

Will unties Hannibal’s arms quickly, then leaves to retrieve the other items. When he returns, Hannibal is curled up on the bed, and he worries for a moment that he's lost him again. But Hannibal stretches like a cat and smiles up at him, all sharp teeth and contented eyes. He allows Will to clean him up and drinks half the glass of water in one gulp. 

They cuddle together on the bed that smells like both of them now. Will curled around Hannibal's back. Hannibal puts Will's hand over his heart and holds it there. Between them there are many words which could and should be said. Tomorrow the tension and uncertainty will rise, and they will begin the dance again. But tonight, in this moment, there is only love between them.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first serious porn for this fandom and nearly my first porn ever, so I hope it was enjoyable. 
> 
> Come yell at me on tumblr @diea-kierlyn


End file.
